


Falsified Evidence

by OkaySky



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gen, One-Shot, i dont have an excuse for this, really its just vague fluff-type stuff idk, very vague shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkaySky/pseuds/OkaySky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A battle with an akuma leaves Adrien with some very incriminating injuries, and his friends jump to some very wrong conclusions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falsified Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> Oh lord, this is my first fanfic in literally a decade and it's a stupid one-shot for a kid's show. I have no excuse for this lmao
> 
> Please excuse any stuff that's, uh, not-so-goodly-written. I haven't written fiction in a long time.
> 
> And if any characters are out of character or something please let me know and I'll do my best to change it!!

“Nice shot, my Lady!” Chat Noir crowed from where he lay in a pile of rubble. Ladybug smirked in reply as she retracted her yoyo from where it had beamed the robot-like akuma they were currently fighting right in the head.

“Come on, Chat, while he’s dazed!” Ladybug called, darting towards the akuma where it stood on wobbly knees. Chat heaved himself out of the rubble, wincing from a pain in his back that he hadn’t noticed before. He must’ve injured it when he was tossed against the now-destroyed building.

He shook the thought off, darting after his partner to help her release the akuma from the possessed man. As Ladybug stretched her hand out to reach for the man’s construction helmet that seemed to hold the malevolent butterfly, his head snapped up with a look of clarity on his face. Ladybug gasped in shock and Chat reacted quickly, throwing himself at his Lady and pushing her out of the way of the akuma’s steel-pincer grasp.

Ladybug tumbled out of the way, a little dazed but mostly unharmed. She shook her head and looked up to see where Chat was, letting out a horrified squeak as she saw him several meters away, pinned beneath the akuma’s bulk. It had one large hand latched to his neck, looking all the world like a monkey wrench about to close down over his windpipe. Chat struggled, his clawed hands wrapped around the metal talons, his legs flailing to kick the much heavier man off him. The akuma’s robotic mouth stretched wide in a dark grin as he made to clamp down his hand and break Chat Noir’s neck.

The akuma’s helmet was suddenly removed from its head and broken sharply over Ladybug’s knee. The metal man slumped to the side, freeing Chat from the death grip. Ladybug lightly leaped to his side as he choked air into his empty lungs.

“Chat! Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” she whispered urgently, hands patting his neck gently to try and assess his level of damage. The masked boy smirked up at her, even as his coughs ruined his suave grin, and managed to choke out, “Just fine! In fact, better than fine with my Lady so concerned for my well-being.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes with a tight-lipped grin. If he had the energy to flirt, he wasn’t in any danger. She stood up and used her powers to reverse the damage caused by the akuma. Chat Noir weakly closed his eyes and focused on breathing evenly. He didn’t want to worry her, but the akuma had really done a number on his neck. It felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. There were sure to be bruises from where it had clamped down over his throat.

He carefully kept up his confident front as he and Ladybug completed their crowd-control and headed in their separate directions, Miraculous ringing out cautionary beeps over the rooftops. Only when he had made it out of her sight did he allow himself to show his pain.

Chat slid down the side of a chimney with a hiss, his hands moving to his lower back. Standing and walking as though nothing were wrong had caused the pain in his lower back to increase, and now the pained muscles throbbed under his fingers. His ring beeped another warning, and Chat forced himself to his feet and continued his trek home, this time being careful not to strain himself in his efforts to keep Ladybug from worrying. When he finally reached his home and slid through his bedroom window, his transformation released and he fell onto his knees with exhaustion and pain.

“What’s the matter, Adrien?” Plagg questioned weakly from the floor. 

“That akuma really did a number on me,” the boy replied in an equally airy voice. He scooped up his kwami with trembling fingers and carried him over to his desk, hissing sharply when a spasm of pain lanced through his back.

“Cheese and an ice pack,” came the muffled reply from the lump of black fur on the desk. Adrien obliged on weak legs, heading to the kitchen to retrieve a wedge of Camembert for his kwami and a gelled ice pack from the freezer for his back. He delivered the cheese to Plagg who devoured it loudly, and descended into his bed without bothering to try and change out of his clothes. He tilted his head so he could breathe around his pillow and deposited the ice pack over his sore muscles. The pain from his injuries warred with his exhaustion in his head, but eventually sleep managed to overcome him. 

 

When Adrien’s eyes fluttered open in the morning, the pain in his neck and back had dulled to a low throbbing that he was able to push to the back of his mind. He sat up delicately, the melted ice pack sliding off his numb torso to hit the floor. He didn’t bother to pick it up, knowing full well that bending over to pick anything up today was not going to be an option. He limped over to his mirror to survey his injuries and a horrified gasp escaped his throat.

His reflection was unmarred except for his neck where blue and purple bruises blossomed on either side of his windpipe. He tipped his head from side to side, stepping closer to get a better look at the injuries. The bruises were patchy but dark, so even though they only covered about 40 percent of the expanse of his throat he doubted they would go unnoticed. He swallowed thickly at his terrified-looking reflection, contemplating his options.

He knew a little bit about makeup from being a model, of course, but he wasn’t overconfident in applying it on himself. He did have some concealer for when acne caused him issues - he was a normal teenager, after all - and he briefly considered attempting to use it to cover the bruises. It couldn’t hurt to try.

Carefully dabbing the concealer over the dark centers of the bruised patches, Adrien went to work slowly covering his neck in makeup. He applied one thin layer, as much as he usually used for particularly aggressive pimples, and then another when that first layer didn’t seem enough to do the trick. He growled in frustration as the now-thick layer of cream still failed in hiding his wounds. How was he supposed to explain this away? The perfect model Adrien Agreste couldn’t just walk around with bruises on his neck. Someone would ask him where he managed to injure himself so badly, and he wouldn’t have a good answer for them. Fencing certainly wouldn’t cause such horrendous bruising, nor would photo shoots.

Scarf. Adrien’s head whipped around in search of the pale blue scarf his father had given him for his birthday the year before. It lay draped over the back of his desk chair. He hobbled over to it, one hand on his lower back, and wormed it around his neck. He made his way back to the mirror and checked out his reflection.

The scarf would certainly hide the worst of the bruises, and if he wore it closer to his neck than usual he could probably conceal the lightly feathered edges, masked as they were by the makeup. He tightened the scarf around his neck and considered his reflection. It looked extremely out of place for him to be wearing the scarf in such a manner. He felt an uncomfortable pressure in his throat as the fabric tightened around his neck. He nipped a finger under the edge and tugged it away from his skin. His over-reactive gag reflex had never been such a problem before, as he never chose to wear anything so close to his throat.

The intercom by his bedroom door buzzed, and Nathalie’s voice filled the room. “It’s time for breakfast. Your driver will be here in fifteen minutes.”

Adrien’s forehead collided with the mirror and he groaned helplessly. Of all the places for Chat Noir to get injured… He could hide away cuts and bruises anywhere else, and his suit usually did a good job of protecting him from injuries anyways. But his neck was something that Adrien always kept exposed. Even when he wore the scarf, he wore it loosely so it wouldn’t touch his throat and trigger his weak gag reflex. And as Chat Noir, he always made sure the zipper at his collar was tugged down enough not to trouble him. He debated his options and eventually decided that he would rather silently struggle with the urge to vomit than answer anyone’s probing questions about the origins of his injuries.

After hurrying to make the rest of himself look presentable and scarfing down a quick breakfast, Adrien ducked out of the main hall of the Agreste mansion to head to school. Nathalie raised an eyebrow at him as he passed, her eyes narrowing at the uncharacteristically-tight scarf around his neck. Adrien smiled weakly at her and continued forward, not allowing his pace to falter for questions.

The car pulled up to the curb of the school building just minutes before the first bell would ring. Adrien thanked his driver and trotted up the steps, self-consciously clutching at the thin blue fabric that was all that protected his wounded neck from prying eyes. He was grateful for the relatively-abandoned state of the schoolyard as it left him to fidget with his scarf as he made his way to his classroom.

Adrien took a deep breath outside the classroom door to steady his nerves. As long as he acted like there was nothing unusual, no one would bother him. As long as he forced himself to believe that, he could make it through the day. With a slightly shaking hand, Adrien pushed open the classroom door and made his way to his seat, keeping his steps measured and his head high as usual. His back throbbed in protest as he lowered himself onto the front row bench, but he steeled his expression to hold back a wince.

“‘Sup, dude?” Nino greeted him. “Weird of you to be this late, man.”

“Sorry, Nino, Nathalie had some things she needed me to do this morning,” Adrien lied calmly, his apologetic grin settling onto his features easily. Nino shrugged and lightly punched his shoulder as the bell rang to signal the beginning of class.

Adrien let out a sigh of relief that Nino hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Now he just had to make it through a few more hours of school, and then hide the injuries through the rest of his evening extracurriculars, and then… Adrien’s eyes widened as he realised that bruises didn’t go away within a day, at least not for normal people. For him, injuries healed much faster than for normal people, but he was still stuck with the bruises for at least another day, maybe two. He didn’t have a photo shoot planned for today, but what if one was written into his schedule without him knowing about it? There was no way he was making it out of a shoot without a relentless Q & A session from the shoot team.

Nino leaned forward to get a better look at Adrien’s face, worried eyes taking in Adrien’s petrified expression. He hastily scribbled in the margins of his note-taking application on his tablet and then nudged Adrien under the table with his foot. The model’s eyes flicked over to the tablet and managed to pick out,  _ You okay dude? _ out of the chicken scratch. Adrien plastered a sincere-looking smile onto his face and nodded at Nino, writing back on his own tablet,  _ Just remembered I have to do something later. _ Nino frowned at the vague answer but didn’t press.

At one point, Adrien’s tablet pen fell from his fingers and rolled onto the floor. He mentally braced himself as he leaned over the grab the pen from beside his bag, letting out a tiny hiss through his teeth as his lower back protested. He slowly straightened back up, his left hand going to his aching muscles and massaging them gently in what he hoped was a inconspicuous gesture. He felt Alya and Nino’s eyes on him, but pretended not to notice.

The rest of the class managed to pass by in relative uneventfulness. 

When the lunch-break bell rang out over the school, Adrien let out a long breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Nino thumped him on the back, causing a stab of pain to shoot Adrien before he could manage to hide his pained expression. Nino’s friendly face immediately melted into concern.

“Dude, seriously, what’s wrong with you today?” Nino pressed, taking Adrien’s shoulder in his grip to make sure the blond couldn’t escape. Adrien laughed weakly, not sounding nearly as convincing as he intended it to be.

“I think I slept wrong last night,” he fibbed. “My back has been kind of bothering me today.”

“That’s not all that’s unusual,” a boisterous voice said from behind the boys. Their eyes flicked to Alya, who was leaning forward over her desk with a catlike grin on her face. Adrien swallowed nervously under her probing stare. The young reporter had a very sharp eye for noticing unusualities. 

“What are you talking about?” Adrien laughed, this time ensuring that his voice was steady.

“Well, for one, Marinette is shockingly absent today, and she hasn’t texted me back to tell me why,” Alya pointed out, gesturing with her thumb to the empty seat to her right. Wrapped up in his own concerns, Adrien hadn’t even noticed that the shy girl hadn’t been staring daggers into the back of his head like usual.

“And for two,” Alya continued without missing a beat, “you never wear your scarf that close to your neck. In fact, I’ve heard from interviews that you have a weak gag-reflex and can’t wear anything like turtlenecks so close to your neck in photo shoots because of it.”

Damn. There was no way he could refute something he himself had said in an interview in the past. Hoping she wouldn’t question the sudden change of heart, Adrien replied, “I’ve been getting over that lately, and I feel a little cold today. I think I might be getting sick or something.”

Alya squinted at him, one knuckle pressing into her chin. Adrien thought back over what Alya said, trying to figure out why she had mentioned Marinette’s absence in conjunction to their current conversation. Before he could figure out what she was getting at, Alya reached forward and quickly tugged the scarf away from Adrien’s throat. He let out a shocked hiss and hurriedly brought his hand to his throat, but not before Alya and Nino got a good look at the mottling of bruises on the sides of his neck.

Nino let out a high whistle and Alya roared in triumph at figuring out the mystery. Adrien glared at the two, re-tightening the scarf so the bruises were hidden once more.

“Dude, those are really intense,” Nino murmured in awe. “I didn’t realise you were into that kind of kinky stuff.”

“What?” Adrien exclaimed, bewilderment on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“I knew it,” Alya crowed, her chin resting on both palms. “You and Marinette got together, didn’t you?”

“What!?” Adrien gasped, his eyebrows receding into his hairline. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Oh, come on, you don’t have to hide it,” she teased, reaching out to lightly poke his neck with one finger. He jerked his head away and she giggled. “The evidence has presented itself and the jury has decided you’re guilty!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adrien insisted. “Like, literally don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Marinette’s absent, your back is hurting, your neck is absolutely  _ covered _ in hickies--”

“ _ What?! _ ” Adrien exploded. “Those have nothing to do with each other! And they aren’t hickies!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Alya replied with a grin. “Then what are they?”

“Well-- They’re--” Adrien sputtered, his brain struggling to come up with an excuse besides  _ I’m Chat Noir and the akuma from yesterday got my neck between its claws and bruised me _ .

“And there you have it folks,” Alya laughed, rising from her chair and heading for the doors. “Don’t worry, lover-boy, your secret’s safe with me.” She winked at Adrien and slipped out the door before he could remember how to form words.

“Did you really hook up with Marinette?” Nino questioned curiously. Adrien dropped his face into his hands and groaned between his fingers, “ _ Nooo! _ ” 

“You’d tell me if you did, right?” Nino pressed with a sly grin. Adrien glared at him from above his thumbs.

“No, because it’s not going to happen!” he snapped, his face turning red at the very thought.

“If you say so,” Nino replied, patting his friend on the back and standing up to head out for lunch. Adrien followed his friend with a glower and the two headed to lunch.

After the lunch break, Marinette trotted in through the classroom door with Alya at her side, the two giggling to each other. Adrien watched them curiously, his cheeks reddening as he looked at the small dark-haired girl that Alya had accused him of “getting together” with. Marinette shyly met his glance, eyes widening and face darkening before her gaze quickly darted away. The two girls slid into their seats and Alya reached over to tap Adrien’s shoulder.

“Hey, sorry for what I said before lunch,” she apologized. “Turns out Marinette was just helping out at the bakery and couldn’t check her phone because she had too much flour on her hands.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows at her friend and questioned, “Why were you guys talking about me before lunch?”

Adrien’s face turned red as a beet and he stared at her with tight lips and eyes blown wide in embarrassment as his mind unbidden procured thoughts of Marinette’s lips on his throat. Marinette’s immediate response was to turn a remarkably darker shade of red. Alya glanced between the two’s red faces, a sly grin spreading across her face.

“Well I’ll be damned,” the breathed.

“Alya, shut it!” Adrien hissed, swiveling to face the front of the class and making a show of ignoring his curious friends. Nino and Alya exchanged shared looks of amusement. Their friends could lie all they wanted, but their reactions would always give them away.

“Alya,” Marinette pestered, jabbing her friend in the ribs. “What is going on? Hey? Alya!”


End file.
